It has been some time since I posted but here I am, sixteen months after David passed away, sitting here in floods of tears. Some days I can smile but more often I still feel empty and disbelieving that I will never see David again. We were together for fifty seven years, married for fifty three before he was taken suddenly with no warning. Do you know what started this tonight? Well, I have a skin condition which had flared up again a few days ago. It suddenly occurred to me as I was dealing with my medication that for the first time in my life I had no one asking me how my skin was and how I was actually feeling, meaning it and happy to actually listen. I was married directly from home and this is the first time I have not had home back up. That is just a sample. Does this feeling of having no one to share little normal things with go away? I loved being married and I am missing that closeness. All mixed up, thought I would be better than this. I have a daughter and son close by but my life feels so empty and so different now. Feeling so sad and upset tonight but also feel as if I am letting go of him if do something that gives me some happiness. A walk with my dog, enjoying a sunset, why can I enjoy them? Told you I am so mixed up… xx
So sorry that you are having a bad evening. You and your husband were a partnership for such a long time that being alone now must be really difficult. I lost my other half four years ago and feel much like you…there are better days but then also some really spiky ones…it’s a bit like being a yoyo sometimes! I think its par for the course but we slowly get better at living with it as time goes by. Never feel guilty about the times you are able to smile or enjoy the sunset…these are our oasis times and give us the strength to keep going. I hope you feel a little brighter tomorrow and that your skin condition improves.
Take care x
I am so sorry for what you are going through.
We were married 47 years and together 50 years and I too was married from my parents home where I was born and grew up. The home I now live in was the one where Peter carried me over the threshold when we returned from our honeymoon in the Lake District.
I have said this over and over again that I found the second year without my husband to be worse than the first year because after he had died there was so much to do, organising his funeral, probate, changing names on bills and bank accounts, it never, ever stopped because some of the companies I had dealt with had not done their job properly and had not changed details on direct debits etc. so I had to send out new death certificates by registered post to ensure that they had been received and signed for. I was walking about in a fog, ticking this off and ticking that off.
When the second year arrived and everything was sorted, I just fell apart, I cried and cried, I screamed into cushions, I was like a wounded animal and kept saying, this time last year Peter was here. Then the third year arrived and it hit me that I was now making new memories and Peter wasn’t a part of them and when I looked back to the year before, I could no longer say, Peter was here this time last year and realised that Peter was now a part of my past and not a part of my future. It is now over six years since he died and I have learned to accept that this is now my life but what I do is talk about Peter every single day with our sons and they now do the same, conversations always include Peter.
Our sons don’t live too far away and as much as I love them, the only person I want is my Peter. I don’t think this will change until the day I die because he was my whole world, still is really.